


Spare Me Over Another Year

by Enigmatic_Stardust



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Flower Symbolism, Gen, Near Death Experiences, Post-Battle, Self-Reflection, Zine piece, for a flower focused zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22271923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmatic_Stardust/pseuds/Enigmatic_Stardust
Summary: Jesse McCree's done it again--he's gone and gotten himself in trouble, only this time, Gabe isn't there to help save him. Alone and wounded in the desert, he reflects on his past and wonders what he could have done different.Inspired by the song O' Death covered by Kate Mann.
Kudos: 9
Collections: Florawatch: An Overwatch Floral Themed Fanzine





	Spare Me Over Another Year

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was done for the Florawatch zine! 
> 
> https://twitter.com/florawatchzine?lang=en
> 
> I had a great time working on it. There are some amazing writers and artists in this zine so please check out the other works!
> 
> This piece was inspired by the song O' Death covered by Kate Mann.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmyKC4S52O8

He could still smell the gunpowder on his hand; acrid and biting. It mixed with the underlying stench of sweat. Reyes had warned him. McCree could still hear the commander’s words echoing in the back of his head, clawing back to the present with a teasing lilt, 

_ “Just keep your head down and do your job, mijo. I know this is personal for you. If you want me to send Shimada instead--”  _

McCree laughed him off. _ “Don’t worry yourself! I ain’t got nothing ‘cept a bullet for them.” _

_ “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. This is a recon mission, McCree, not an assassination.” _

_ “This ain’t my first rodeo.”  _ McCree rolled his eyes and grabbed his hat off of the commander’s desk.  _ “I’ve got it handled, jefe.” _

_ “You’d better.” _ Reyes leaned forward, arching a brow at him.  _ “I’m not going to save your ass from the Deadlock Gang a second time. If you don’t make it to the extraction point, I’ll assume you slipped up.” _

_ “You’ll come pick me up, right?” _

_ “What part of ‘I’m not going to save your ass a second time’ didn’t you get? You’re on your own.” _

He knew the Deadlock like the back of his hand, which, in retrospect, was exactly why he should have been worried.

McCree stumbled and fell, just barely catching himself with an outstretched hand.  _ Stupid _ . He’d really done it this time, hadn’t he? McCree pushed himself back up and started his slow procession through the desert once again. He was going to get a lecture and a half from Reyes and─shit, he was going to have to deal with Moira O’Deorain, wasn’t he? Maybe he could swing it and get Angela Ziegler to take care of him instead? Angela would lecture him though and take away his cigs.

Speaking of cigs... McCree fumbled with his pocket. He found a pack and tugged it out, flipping open the top to reveal four bloodsoaked cigarettes.

“Oh, come on! Give me a break!” He glared at the pack and threw it out into the desert. Just his luck.

The extraction point was miles away─miles across open desert without an ounce of cover or even a road to follow. He’d really done it this time. 

A distant rumble warned him. McCree swore and started to run, ignoring the jolt of pain that accompanied each stride. Discomfort meant he was alive, and if he had to put himself in a bit more pain to get out of dodge, he’d do it. He scanned the flat terrain for anywhere to lay low. The terrain decided to take matters into its own hands and offered him up a ditch, which he tumbled unceremoniously into. 

Brambles and thorns bit into his exposed arms until he hit the bottom some fifteen feet down. The air left his lungs in a low  _ whoosh _ . He coughed, picked up his hat, and quickly hid his face under it just as the whirl of the helicopter rushed overhead.

The helicopter lingered, it’s searchlight flashing over the broken landscape.

He held his breath.

Waited.

Finally, after what felt like hours instead of mere seconds, the helicopter turned and flew off to the south. McCree waited until he couldn’t hear the rotors anymore before he let out a sigh of relief. He took off his hat and looked up at the stars, calculating the time.  _ I’m not going to make the extraction point on time... shit _ . 

It was all Ashe’s fault; but then, when wasn’t it her fault?. He hadn’t expected to see her at the warehouse. Reyes sent him in to find out about a weapons stockpile at one of the smaller bases. Back in the old days, Ashe wouldn’t have given a rat’s ass to go inspect them herself.  _ That was before I betrayed her though... before she knew Overwatch had all of our... their secrets _ . He could still see her expression: red lips pulled tight, sharp eyes narrowed in rage. Her shriek continued to echo in his ears. That was the only present she’d left him, though.

_ Gotta get out of this ditch… _

It was easier said than done. McCree looked up the slope. There wasn’t any point in rushing now. The extraction point was hours away and he was expected there in half that time.  _ Might as well get comfortable and find a ride home in the morning instead of stumbling around in the dark. _

McCree unclipped his breastplate and pulled it off. He was going to regret this. He reached down and gingerly pulled up the hem of his shirt. A sticky, wet sound accompanied the motion. If Reyes didn’t kill him, Ashe’s bullet might.

The moon rolled on and McCree remained at the bottom of the gully. Cleaning and bandaging his side took more out of him than he cared to admit. He slid down to rest on the ground with his black sarape draped over him like a blanket and his arm (now going numb) under his head, acting as a less than functional pillow. Rest never came easy without a few shots of whiskey. Reyes was trying to get him to stop drinking it─took away his smokes too whenever he could. 

McCree’s eyes slid out of focus, falling from the sky and to the creeping plant by his head. There weren’t many plants out in the West, but this one had somehow managed to take root at the bottom of a dried-up river. The broad leaves gave him the impression of a pumpkin plant, but the pods dangling from the branches were far from the friendly orange gourd. Some were green, almost like deformed okra. Others were gigantic blackened claws, suspended and groping towards his face. McCree suppressed a shudder and looked away.

For a kid who grew up on a farm, he wasn’t always the most well versed in plant lore. Ashe, however, was. Even when they were running the gang, she had kept a rosebush just outside of their headquarters. He always thought she had a bit of an odd obsession with them and would jokingly sing that old song “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” around her. She never told him to stop. 

He missed the gang, as loath as he was to admit it sometimes. Blackwatch was... fine. It wasn’t family, that was for sure. The only one who seemed to give a damn was Reyes and sometimes that doctor Angela... and Captain Amari he supposed. He never really felt like he fit in though, not really, even among the misfits and delinquents of Blackwatch. They were just a group brought together by circumstance, hidden away from society, and chosen to do the dirty jobs that Overwatch couldn’t publicly handle. 

Even if he didn’t really fit with the others, it suited him. No point in the heroes doing the dirty work─they had to stay shiny like their medals for the folks who looked up to them.

Blackwatch was perfect for him. 

_ “You want to make up for what you did?” Commander Reyes flicked one of the bars on the cell. “You can’t damn well do that behind there, now can you?” _

_ “You’d what? Let me out and hire me on like some mercenary?” _

_ “Hire implies pay. No, right now, you want to join us out of the charity of your heart to atone for the lives you took.” _

_ “Why would I want to do that?” _

_ “Because, kid, I’ve read the reports. You were in charge of setting up a lot of the plays, weren’t you? Interesting how the ones you set up had the least casualties.” Commander Reyes flicked the bar again. “You think about the ‘small folk’ because you’re one of them, not like your partner.” _

_ McCree looked away. “Ashe ain’t all that bad. I’m the one y’all got to worry about.” _

_ “Listen, you’ve got two options: join us, or rot away in here.” Reyes frowned, studying him for a long moment. “Devil’s got his claws in you, but I think you’re a clever kid. I know you’ll work it out.” _

McCree looked back to the plant. Devil’s Claws were on him again, this time to drag him down for good. Just when he was starting to figure life out too…

He had a lot of regrets, especially when it came to Ashe. Back in the day, he’d just been happy to have a like minded friend. She was clever and calculating, if not always cool under pressure. She had a temper that could only be quelled by his calm demeanor. They fascinated each other and curiosity brought them together for better or worse. She took to the life even better than he had─necessity made for a good teacher, but pure joy made for a protege, and Ashe was the latter when it came to crime. 

Reyes took him under his wing the way he’d taken up Ashe all those years ago. Hell, he even used the same words:  _ “You’re not meant for this life.”  _ McCree wondered where he’d be now if Reyes hadn’t come along. Probably dead, he reflected ruefully.

_ “You better not make me put up any flowers for you, mijo.” _

_ “You’d be the only one! Ain’t no one else going to put flowers on my grave.” _

McCree reached out and ran his fingers over one of the claws.  _ Don’t worry, Gabe, I went and gave myself my own flowers. _ He was so tired. It was bad enough he hadn’t gotten much sleep during the recon mission. That, coupled with the aftermath of adrenaline and blood loss had his eyes tugging shut. Fear kept them open, itching with sleep sand. 

He named the stars to keep his mind working and his weariness at bay. That Shimada boy, Genji, was curious about his knowledge of the local constellations. McCree knew the Swiss constellations now just as well as the ones familiar to the Midwest. Genji liked to sit in silence while McCree prattled on about each one and the stories with them. Ashe would have told him to shut up, but Genji just listened. Sometimes, Genji told stories of his own about the same constellations. The two didn’t talk much, so it was a treat whenever Genji voiced his thoughts. He could imagine his fellow Blackwatch agent beside him now, face visor pulled off to see the full expanse above.

“That one’s Sirius,” McCree said hoarsely to himself, “You always know the dawn’s coming when you see that one around this time of year.”

McCree’s eyes itched. He rubbed them, hoping to wipe the blurriness away. 

Roaring. McCree’s eyes snapped open. A fiery dawn blazed across the horizon over the lip of the ravine. It took him a moment to realize what had woken him up. He remained completely still, listening. The low roaring slowly processed in his mind: they were searching for him again. His black clothes wouldn’t do him any good out here now. He just had to hope he’d be overlooked since he was at the bottom of a pit.

The sound faded. He couldn’t quite identify what it had been or where it had gone. McCree let out a heavy sigh and looked over again at the Devil’s Claws beside him. To his surprise, some of the claws were accompanied by white flowers now. He couldn’t help it: he laughed. He really did have his own flowers.

He heard heavy boots coming towards him.

“Look at that, I dug my own grave and even got some proper flowers for it.” He took out his Peacekeeper and sat up as much as he could. “Ain’t going down without a real fight though.”

A silhouette appeared before him, wreathed in sunlight. McCree held out his peacekeeper.

“Always thought I’d go out at high noon, but I guess this’ll work.”

“Damn ingrate... put that thing down before you shoot your eye out.” 

The figure stepped forward, revealing the familiar form of Commander Reyes. McCree let his gun droop and he relaxed, falling back onto the ground with a dry chuckle.

“Thought you said you weren’t coming to save me this time,  _ jefe _ .”

“And I thought you said you had this handled?” Reyes knelt down beside him. “Come on, let’s head home. Think you can follow that order?”

McCree looked over at the white blooms beside him and nodded, “Yeah... yeah I think I can handle that one.”


End file.
